Burned Away
by Another Writer Who Loves
Summary: In which Sam is the one with Jack at S14E17 Game Night and as a result, a different person dies.
1. Chapter 1

It had been an attempt at a logical decision, there was no secret that Sam needed to have some sort of closure with Lucifer and his vessel. The vessels whose face had been used time and time again when Lucifer had tormented him inside of the cage and outside.

Dean was barely able to control him and hold him back when Nick had come into the bunker, he had placate him with a promise that once it was done, once they were finished with Nick once and for all, he could have his slight revenge.

A part of him knew that it wasn't right, that Nick wasn't Lucifer despite how much he was trying to become the former.

But at the same time he knew that Nick had taken the jump from humanity, had taken the plunge and he needed to be stopped before he killed more people, or worse, brought back Lucifer into existence.

And Sam wanted to have that bit of closure as well, he wanted to finally have a chance to close the book and put it onto the shelf for the rest of eternity. Lucifer was a done deal, or at least they thought that he was.

So yes, he wanted Nick to be dead, he wanted this chapter in his life to finally finish, he wanted to find the end of this story that had gone on for too long.

Mom and Dean had gone together with Nick to save Donatello while he and Jack had remained behind. It was an easy decision to keep him and Nick apart for the time that they needed him.

But Dean had promised him in hushed tones and whispers that once they were done, once Donatello was saved and Nick had outlived his uses Sam could come and end it. He would be the one to put a bullet in Nicks head and finally, ultimately, absolutely end Nick, end Lucifer, and have some sort of closure in his life.

But of course, nothing went to plan. Nothing was at it was supposed to be. Dean had gone to save Donatello, leaving mom with Nick in the car to watch over him. Nick had managed to slip clear, attacking their mom to do so.

But Jack managed to be able to locate him, managed to figure out where Nick had gone and what he was actually trying to do. He was trying to bring back Lucifer and Sam had to fight the urge to throw up.

He was fighting the urge to throw up again as he watched the burnt and destroyed remains of Nick on the ground, his screams still filling the air.

Jack had disappeared, he had answered Deans call and had gone to help him and mom, leaving him behind for the time being with the charred remains of what used to be a human being.

The smell of burned human flesh was clear in the air and Sam was a bit concerned about himself when he didn't even react to it, he actually managed to differentiate the scent from how different it was compared to when they burned monsters.

Nick needed to die, he had needed to be put down. He had put himself on a road that he refused to budge from and would do anything he needed to get to his finish line, regardless of who got hurt.

Sam had actually been hoping to be the one to do it. In his wildest fantasies that he rarely let himself have he always had been the one to kill Lucifer-Nick, had managed to avenge himself.

But not like this.

When he did think about it, he never let himself drift down to torture, he never let himself think about hurting Lucifer in anyway that he had done to him. It was a slippery slope that he had no desire to go down and he knew that if he was going to get revenge, it would have to be fast and straight to the point. When he thought about it, it was always quick.

A bullet to the head. A clean neck break. A stab through the heart. Something clean, something quick, and something to end everything.

Closing his eyes Sam breathed out through his mouth and walked away, taking the somewhat stained table cloth off of the table and carefully draped it over Nicks destroyed body.

He didn't have any words to say, there was nothing he could say or wanted to say. He just covered him completely with the cloth and stepped back, fingers twitching slightly.

He didn't turn away even when he heard the telltale sound of wings flapping and he could feel Jack had come back into the room.

"I took care of Mary, she's going to be okay." Jack said, obviously pleased with himself, it was clear in his voice.

"Good." Sam said, trying to find the right words to say, or what he could even do. If this was what he thought it was, and remembering how Jack had been and staring down at the lump on the ground, it wasn't going to be good.

Jack didn't say anything but then he came closer to him. "Sam?" he asked, a curious tone in his voice. "Did I do something wrong?"

Sam took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders back. "Why did you kill him like this?" he asked.

"Because...he deserved it. He did bad things and he was trying to bring Lucifer back to life, that's...not good." Jack said and it almost sounded like he was reading lines off of a script. "It was the right thing to do."

"No it wasn't." Sam said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Jack, I need you to be honest with me now, no more lying." he turned to the nephilim and noted how pale the kid was suddenly looking. "Do you have your soul?"

Jack fidgeted in place, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away. "That's...not important Sam." he said an uncomfortable tone to his voice.

"Yes it is." Sam said, his voice was soft yet firm, not letting Jack evade anymore. He and Dean had trusted in him to tell them if something had been wrong, if he was feeling different, and he hadn't and now...this is what they had to deal with. "Do you have your soul?"

Jack didn't answer and that was more than enough of an answer.

Sam breathed in deeply, trying to remain calm. "You should've told us."

"I'm fine." Jack insisted, starting to move around the room restlessly. "I'm fine Sam."

"No, you're not." Sam told him firmly, going to him and reaching for his arm. "You never would've done this before when you had a soul."

"It doesn't matter what I would've done, that's not me anymore!" Jack exclaimed. "This is me! I don't have a soul anymore so this is me and this," he gestured wildly towards the mess of Nick's body. "This is what you would've done. It's what you wanted."

"No it's not." Sam told him, watching him deflate. "I wanted him dead, I'm not going to deny it. But I didn't want him to suffer like this."

"But why not!" Jack all but shouted at him. "He hurt you! He hurt everyone around him! He deserved it."

"No he didn't." Sam shot back at him. "I wanted to kill him fast and simple, a gunshot to the head. This, what you did, separates us from them. We don't prolong a death, we don't hurt people like this. This...this is not what a good person does Jack."

Jacks face paled and his breathing started to quicken before he suddenly turned and started out of the cabin.

Sam didn't hesitate to go after him, following close behind him. "Jack, stop."

"No. No because I'm supposed to be good, I'm supposed to be the good one, like you." Jack said, picking up the pace. "And if I'm not good that means that I'm bad and if I'm bad then that means that I can't be near you."

"It doesn't mean any of that, stop." Sam said, hurrying to catch up with him. "Jack please stop."

"I can't. I can't be bad. I can't be bad." Jack was mumbling under his breath, the smell of ozone filling the air. "I can't be. I don't want to be bad. I don't want to be bad. I wanted to be like you."

"Jack please! Stop!" Sam called out, finally reaching him and grabbing his arm. "Listen to me!"

Jack wrenched himself free, stepping backwards away from Sam with gold starting to color over the edges of his eyes. "If I'm bad I can't be near you, get away! You need to get away!"

"I'm not going anywhere." Sam told him firmly, reaching out to place his hands on Jacks shoulders. "Jack please, listen to me."

Jack brought both his hands up towards Sam, the scent of fire surrounding them for a moment and at that moment, Sam couldn't breathe.

"You need to get away!"

**I do not own Supernatural. **

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**This was requested by Astronema2345.**


	2. Chapter 2

"C'mon Sam, answer your phone." Dean muttered as Sam's cell phone went straight to voicemail, pacing around the impala restlessly. He fought the urge to throw his phone away and instead forced himself to call Jacks phone instead.

He tightened his grip on the phone when Jack also didn't answer and shoved it into his pocket. He turned to look at Mary who was also on her phone. When she met his eyes she shook her head.

"Nothing." she said. "Do you think that Nick..." she trailed off, not able to finish her sentence.

Nick could've done anything. He could have brought back Lucifer and as a result both Sam and Jack are dead. Nick could have killed Sam and then gotten killed by Jack in return. Nick and Sam would have fought and killed one another.

But none of that was possible or even a probability, Sam would not be dead no matter what and especially not due to the fact that they were apart.

Sam was not allowed to die if Dean was not there to stop it and vice versa.

Taking a deep breath he brought the phone back out and immediately recalled his brothers number, willing him to answer the phone. When it went straight to voicemail he scowled.

"Sam, it's me. Call me back." Dean said, deciding to leave the message. He pulled his phone away and dialed Jacks number. It rang which meant that it was still in service, that had to be a good sign, but ultimately went to voicemail as well.

"Jack, it's Dean. Call me back." Dean said. "What happened? What's going on? Call me."

He turned when he felt his mom's hand on his arm and he looked at her, seeing the worry and stress on her face.

"Sam's going to be okay." Mary told him. "He's going to be fine, no matter what happened. We just need to find him and Jack."

Dean nodded, wanting to believe in that and wanting to be comforted with his mom's words but ultimately, he knew the Winchester luck a whole bit better than she did and he knew that whatever was waiting for them, was going to be nothing more than a giant mess.

Dean glanced at Donatello who hadn't said a single word the entire time, his entire body swaying from side to side as his body worked out the poison that Nick had injected into him.

"Alright, let's go." Dean said curtly, going back to the impala and getting into the driver's seat. He waited for Mary to get into the passenger's seat and Donatello to all but collapse into the backseat before he got them on the road.

He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove, half glancing at his mom. He pulled his phone out again and called Sam, scowling when it still went straight to voicemail.

He tried not to think about what had possibly happened, not wanting to even go near those thoughts. Those thoughts weren't a possibility and he needed to focus on something else. He needed to think about what they were going to do now and deal with whatever Nick had done to try to bring Lucifer back to life.

As soon as Sam picked his phone up and spoke to him.

It lead straight back to a voicemail.

"Dean." Mary said softly but firmly, cutting through his thoughts. "Focus on the road."

Dean blinked and focused back, realizing that the impala was drifting slightly from side to side on the road and he quickly corrected it.

"Sorry." he said shortly, trying to dial Sam's number once more.

Mary reached out and took his phone from him. "I'll keep trying to call Sam, you focus on driving and getting us back safe."

Dean worked his jaw side to side but nodded tensely, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and watching from the corner of his eye as Mary tried to call Sam over and over again.

"Call Jack too, he was with him." Dean told her as they finally reached Donatello's home and let the man out to stumble towards the house.

Immediately Dean brought them back onto the road towards the bunker, not sure of where else to go or what else to do. He could see Mary still trying reach Sam or Jack, he couldn't tell which number she was calling from his place.

"Nothing?" Dean asked, his voice a bit gruffly.

"Nothing." Mary confirmed. She looked at him, worry clear on her face that she tried to smooth away. "I'm sure he's fine."

"I know." Dean said curtly. "There isn't anyway that he's not. I just wish one of them would pick up."

A part of him hoped that once they reached the bunker they would find the pair of them, Sam and Jack, in the main room, phone battery dead for the both of them, and apologies for that.

But all that met them was the silence of the bunker, a stillness that was heavy in the air and weighed down on him. Dean paused, swaying for a moment, before he continued forward.

He grabbed Sams laptop and booted it up, not even sure of where to start. They hadn't taken any cars so he wasn't sure where to start looking. He could try to track his brother's phone down but if Sam had turned it off, like how all the calls seemed to be, then it wouldn't do any good to try to track it down.

Dean drummed his fingers on the table, not really seeing anything in front of him. He blinked and looked down at his wrist to see what time it was.

It was late at night, well past midnight, marking it a full day since the whole thing that had happened.

And Sam was still not answering his phone.

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	3. Chapter 3

Dean kept trying to call Sam's cell phone and each time it went straight to voicemail. It took everything he had not to freak out, focusing on not cracking his glass as he drank.

Finally he took the laptop and booted it up to track down Sam's phone. He came close to punching the screen when it showed that there was no signal, no method of tracking, nothing.

Closing his eyes he breathed out deeply, fingers shaking slightly as he tried to think of something else to do instead.

Jack. He could track Jack's cell phone. The kid had been with Sam during that time and would either hopefully still be with him or at the very least knew what had happened to him.

Regardless, it was more of a step than anything else he had right now.

He typed in Jack's phone number and watched the screen load, eyes widening when it gave him a location in a small field. He stood up and was about to grab his jacket and drive there when the dot disappeared, reappearing in a different part of the states.

Slowly Dean sat back down, staring at the computer screen, every second there was another beep and Jack, or at least his phone, was in a different part of the world.

"What the hell are you doing kid?" Dean mumbled under his breath, watching the dot move around the screen. "Where are you going?"

Finally it stopped for longer than a moment, the same field that he had seen when he had first opened the program. He quickly memorized where it was and at that second Jack was back hopping the continents.

Moving his jaw side to side he reached to grab his phone and called Jack again, watching the dot jumping around everywhere. At the very least it was something he could follow now.

There was no answer and he left a voicemail, "Jack it's me, call me back." and put his phone on the table, watching the laptop screen.

What the hell was going on? Was it Jack jumping around like this or did something have his phone? Did that mean that whoever possibly took Jack's phone took Sam's too? Were they hostages or were they fighting? He had no idea and quite frankly, Dean was ready to start punching things to get to the bottom of this.

Finally he reached for his cell phone and dialed, hating that he needed to call for this.

"Rowena." he greeted, getting to the point. "I need a favor."

"Of course you do, you never call just to talk." Rowena said, a bit of amusement touching her voice. "Well, what do you need?"

"I need a spell, something to find Sam. Or Jack." he added. "They've gone missing and they're not answering their phones." he glanced at the laptop once more. "I've managed to track down Jack's phone but its jumping all over the place, I can't track Sams."

"You Winchesters, always so codependent on one another." Rowena said, he could almost hear her shaking her head.

"Can you do it or not?" Dean said, barely restraining himself from snapping at her, he needed her help after all.

"Of course I can." Rowena said with a slight sniff. "I'll just add it to the list of favors that I have done for you and will eventually come to collect."

"You do that." Dean said. "So long as you tell me where my brother is." with that he ended the call and sat back down at the table, focusing on the laptop.

"Alright kid, lets track you down." he murmured as he started marking down the places where Jack had been jumping to. He was trying to find a pattern of some sort, Sam was better at this part, his mind worked better to find patterns and rhythms. It was all those serial killer documentaries he liked to watch.

At some point Mary joined him, bringing him a cup of coffee to drink as well.

"Thanks mom." Dean said roughly, drinking deeply from his cup.

"I was calling other people, Jody, Donna, nothing from them." Mary told him, sitting down next to him, hands curled around her cup of coffee. "What about you?"

"Asked Rowena to do a spell to find them. This," he gestured at the laptop. "Is useless. Sam's off the grid and Jacks flying around all Eighty Days Around the World type."

Deans cell phone suddenly rang and he quickly grabbed at it, bringing it up to his ear without looking who was calling. "Sam?"

"Hello Dean." Rowena said instead, her voice oddly sedated sounding. She almost sounded nervous. "I did what you asked. I used scrying magic on the boy, tried to find him. But his energy," she sighed. "It's too unstable, it was like looking at the sun."

"Fine, what about Sam?" Dean asked briskly, wanting to get straight to the point.

Rowena hesitated at that, taking a deep breath. "Dean...I don't know what happened or where he is but...I can tell you with certainty. Sam Winchester is no longer on his Earth."

There was a cracking sound filling his ear and Dean suddenly realized that he was gripping the cell phone tight enough that it was starting to crack. "No. No."

"If he was just dead I would still be able to find his body at the very least." Rowena continued, her voice wavering slightly. "But no matter the spell I used, no matter how powerful the ingredients or the magical channeling, I can't find anything."

"Rowena." Dean breathed out. "You're lying."

"I'm not." she told him. "Sam Winchester is no longer in existence in any single way that I can find."

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	4. Chapter 4

Coming into the cabin Dean couldn't help but gag slightly at the smell of burned flesh that filled the air. Beside him Mary made a face at the smell, her nose wrinkling when they saw the source.

It was charred and destroyed remains of Nick, curled up on the ground broken and seared. Dean looked him over disinterestedly and turned away from it, fighting the urge to kick at it for good measure.

He could hear Mary take a deep breath as he busied himself to look around the cabin, trying to find a hint of where Sam and Jack had gone.

After what Rowena said Dean had immediately broke the phone in his hand, pieces crumbling to the ground. Mary had kept her distance from him but then suggested the both of them go to the cabin that Jack kept reappearing in front of multiple times.

And inside was the remains of Nick that Dean had no interest in. It was good riddance and one less of a problem for them to deal with.

But no sign of Sam anywhere inside of the cabin.

Snorting he turned away from the body and went outside, looking around for a hint of something, anything that would tell him what happened.

Rowena had to be wrong. Her spell was mispronounced or her ingredients were faulty or something, there was no possibility that Sam was...whatever she had even said. She said that he wasn't even dead, he didn't exist anymore.

And that didn't make sense, none of that made sense. The very idea of Sam being dead made him want to throw up and punch something. But he could work with it, he could make another deal, do a spell, find some sort of answer to deal with Sam being dead. The idea, not even the idea but the thought that Sam wasn't even in existence?

That wasn't something that was even remotely possible to have happened.

So he stepped away from the cabin and looked around the area, glancing down at the ground to see if there were footsteps that he could follow when he felt goosebumps suddenly rise up on his arms.

The smell of ozone was clear in the air, more here than in the cabin. The burned flesh made it a bit hard to smell but outside he could smell it as easily as anything. Ozone wasn't good, it meant angel powers and it meant something angelic had happened.

Swallowing down he slowly walked forward, eyes raking over the trees before he spotted the difference. An area just a few feet away from the cabin had their trees bent forward, almost broken from a force that pushed down them.

He tried to breathe in evenly as he came forward, the feeling of ozone making his skin prickle the closer he walked. The gravel under his feet shifted and then he looked down, seeing the collection of ash that he was walking over.

Kneeling he reached down for the ash, letting his fingers shift through it slightly.

His hand was shaking a corner of his mind told him. He blinked a few times and then curled his hand into the ash, gripping at it as tightly as he could.

Dimly he could hear Mary's voice from a distance coming closer. He didn't move when he felt her hand on his shoulder, couldn't make out what she was saying. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the ash.

Finally he looked up slightly, seeing more and more ash mixed with the ground that he could pick out now that he knew it was there.

He'd dealt with enough ash from hunters burials, he'd cleaned up plenty of them, had been the one to deal with the end result, to know exactly what he was holding in his hand at that moment.

He slowly blinked, his eyes were oddly dry. He refused to let go of the ash despite what Mary was saying, or maybe she was saying something completely different. He could hear her voice but he couldn't make out what she was saying, it sounded like she was speaking through a heavy fog to get to him.

He had to try to think, he had to try to figure out how this had happened. Jack was off hopping continent to continent so therefore he was still alive, Rowena just wasn't able to properly pindown his location because of him. Nick was destroyed back in the cabin and if Lucifer had been freed then he wouldn't have destroyed him. If Lucifer had been freed he would've needed a vessel to do anything and that left either Nick or Sam.

Nick was destroyed and Sam would rather kill himself than let Lucifer take him as a vessel again. Jack was also back to his original power, meaning that he was stronger than Lucifer. So if Nick had managed to get Lucifer out of the Empty Jack would've been able to stop him.

Jack would've been able to stop Lucifer.

Jack would've been able to destroy Nick the way that they found him destroyed.

Jack would've been able to destroy Sam in such a way that magic thought he didn't exist anymore.

Deans hand curled into a tight fist, nails digging into his palm the ash escaping from the side of his hand. His blood slowly mixed with the ash, dripping thickly to the ground and he felt something crack deep inside of him.

**I do not own Supernatural. **

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	5. Chapter 5

Dean had refused to let go of the ash in his hand, fighting the urge to gather the rest of it from the ground. He kept a tight hold on it, feeling it digging into the cuts his nails had made, but ignored it, letting the ash slip in and combine with his blood.

Mary had led him back inside of the cabin and he let her, not really caring where he was at the time. He leaned against a broken wooden table as she tried to talk to him. At some point Castiel joined them, looking grave and an unreadable expression on his face.

Dean didn't pay attention to what Cas and Mary was talking about, holding onto the ash tightly as to not lose a single grain of it. Dimly he could hear them talking about something made him look up in time to hear, "I went to check on him, and Felix was sick."

"Felix? You mean the snake?" Dean asked, tightening his grip.

Mary and Cas looked at him, worry clear on her face when he finally spoke. Cas looked grave but nodded.

"Yes. Jack used his powers. He killed the snake." Cas told him, wringing his hands in front of him an oddly human gesture. "I think Jack considered it a mercy. ``I-I was gonna tell you."

Dean tilted his head to the side. "But you didn't." he said, voice even. "You just wanted to wait until we were already freaked out."

Cas glanced behind him where the lump of meat that was Nick was. "I didn't think that it would go this far, that he would go this far. I didn't want any of you to worry."

"No, you just waited and let everything happen and now Jack destroyed Sam." Dean told him, hand shaking. "Destroyed him completely out of existence."

"I didn't know-"

"I don't care." Dean injected. "I don't care what you know or knew or thought or wanted. You knew for a fact that there was something wrong with Jack." He pushed off of the table and slowly walked towards Cas, boots echoing through the cabin. "You knew that much and you didn't tell us. And now, because of you not telling us and us not being prepared because of that, Sam is gone."

Cas couldn't meet his eyes, staring at the ground instead. "Dean," he tried to say.

"You're dead to me." Dean told him. "And once I bring back Sam, I never want to see you ever again. Don't call us, don't contact us, stay away Castiel."

"Dean, calm down please." Mary said, coming forward to place her hand on his shoulder. "You know that Cas meant-"

"No." Dean said curtly, cutting her off. "I don't care, I don't give a damn. My brother, your son is dead and he has a hand in it. He didn't tell us that something was wrong with the kid and now we have to pay for it."

"I was scared." Castiel started to say, flinching slightly when Dean moved towards him, leaning in close, his hand shaking and wishing he had an angel blade.

"Shut. Up." Dean breathed out. "I don't care. I don't give a damn. My brother is dead and you're saying that you think you were doing the right thing? You can go to hell."

"We all need to calm down and try to figure everything out. Dean calm down, Cas...just be quiet for a moment." Mary said, moving between the both of them. She reached out to guide Dean back to the other side of the cabin but he threw her arm off and moved himself.

"Okay, let's try to figure out our next step." Mary said. "What do we do?"

"We find the kid and we kill him." Dean told them. "He's dangerous, he's powerful, and he has no soul. He needs to be taken out."

"No." Cas said, his voice firm. He ignored Marys look at him. "Jack is innocent in this, he didn't mean to. I am one hundred percent certain that he didn't mean to kill Sam."

"Oh he didn't mean to kill Sam, that's so much of a relief." Dean said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I'm so happy that he didn't mean to kill Sam. But he did." he snapped the last part. "He killed him!"

"He didn't want to and that's worth not killing him!" Cas snapped back at him.

"You don't stop talking I'll kill you right here, right now." Dean warned him. "Back off Cast!"

"Both of you stop!" Mary shouted at them, turning to Dean when he grabbed at her arm.

"I want to know what you think." Dean told her. "I want to know what you want to do, what you think about this, the fact that Jack killed Sam."

"It's horrible, its bad, and I don't have the words to say." Mary told him, moving her arm out of Deans grip. "But...we can't just...give up on Jack like this."

Dean nodded and then walked away. "So it's just like always, good to know."

"Where are you going?" Mary asked, following him. "Dean where are you going?"

"I'm going to go find Jack and kill him." Dean told her, looking down at her. "And obviously you're not going to help."

"Of course I'm not going to help you kill you him, he's a kid! He needs help!" Mary all but exclaimed at him.

"He killed your son!" Dean shouted at her, bringing his hand up that held his ashes. "This is all that's left of Sam and you want to help him!"

"Because he deserves help!" Mary told him, raising her voice as well but not looking at his hand.

Deans chest was heaving as he breathed heavily, shaking his head. "I really shouldn't be that surprised." he spat at her. "You have a habit of picking other people over your sons."

"Dean." Mary said warningly. "I want what's best-"

"The hell you do." Dean shot at her. "You picked the British Men of Letters over Sam even though you knew that they tortured him relentlessly for two weeks. You chose those other hunters from that damned Michael world even knowing everything we went through to get you and Sam dying from a vampire attack that Lucifer," he spat the name out with as much disgust as he could. "Had to be the one to bring him back to life."

"And now this and I have no idea why I'm surprised, you always, always pick other people over your own flesh and blood." Dean said. He could see the hint of tears in his mom's eyes and how her throat moved when she swallowed. He wished he could say that he felt bad but he really didn't, not anymore. She had her chance, she had more than one chance, more than two chances. She was his mom, he loved her dearly but he was so tired of trying to fight for her to be on their side.

Dean took a deep breath. "My brother is dead." he said, his voice hollow. "And I have no idea how to bring him back. All I know right now is the second Winchester way, is to avenge his death. And I don't give a damn about who it is or who stands in my way."

He started for the door. "Goodbye Mary." he said before he left. He went to the side of the cabin where the rest of the ash was and just stared at it for a moment.

Reaching into his pocket he took out a handkerchief and finally opened his hand over it, letting the ash fall into the fabric. He knelt down and gathered more of the ash, putting it carefully into the handkerchief. He tied it together and then put it into his breast pocket, right over his heart.

He walked the rest of the way to the impala, ignoring Cas's car. Getting into the driver's seat he leaned back into his seat and just stared at the dashboard for a moment.

"We're the only ones left baby." he whispered to the impala before he started it. The engine filled him and helped to ground him in his seat.

Without looking back, he could see Mary coming out of the cabin in the rear view mirror, he got onto the road and started back to the bunker.

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	6. Chapter 6

Dean drove. He kept driving and driving until the impala brought him to the bunker and even then, he didn't move to get out of the driver's seat just yet.

Staring at the dashboard he couldn't really feel his legs, couldn't make them move or force himself to stand up. He could feel the small pouch of ashes against his chest and his hand came up to stroke at it through his shirt.

After what seemed like an eternity Dean reached out and turned the engine off, plunging himself into a silence that seemed louder than the engine.

Finally Dean took a deep breath, breathed in until it hurt, and once he let it out he moved. He opened the door and got out, moving and not letting himself stop. He knew that if he stopped moving then he'd fall to the ground and he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to get up.

He reached the kitchens and went straight to the cabinet, grabbing the first bottle of liquor he saw, and kept moving, not stopping until he had reached his bedroom door, opened it, and went inside. He moved until he could fall into his bed and just laid there, curled up in his blanket.

Clumsily he reached for his shirt pocket and took out the handkerchief of ashes, gently placing it on the nightstand beside his bed and stared at it for a moment before he opened the bottle and immediately took a long drink, not caring when some dribbled from the corner of his lips.

He relished the burn, drank deeper so that the burn could deepen as well. He coughed and sputtered slightly when it became too much but the moment it passed just a bit he took another drink.

He fell back into his bed, breathing heavily and eyes tightly shut. He tried not to think about what had happened. Tried not to think about what might've been Sams last actions, last words, last everything. Tried not to figure out what exactly Sam would've done in that situation that he was suddenly thrusted into.

And Dean knew his brother, knew him down to the pieces that Sam might not even have known about. He knew exactly how Sam was going to act and what he was going to do. Faced with death or Death or Lucifer or anything else in existence, he knew exactly how Sam would act. Especially when it came to the kid that Sam loved so much, the kid that Sam considered in all sorts his own. Facing a soulless and powerful Jack Kline, Dean knew exactly how Sam would react.

And it wouldn't be fear.

It wouldn't be despair.

It wouldn't even be anger.

He would be trying to help him. He would be trying to reach out to him and he would be trying to reason and help the kid to his very last breath and existence.

And the worst part...

The absolute worst part...

The gut wrenching part that Dean knew for a point and knew that Sam would want and would even be considered his last wish and desire...

Would be for Dean to not blame Jack.

Would be for Dean to help Jack.

Would be for Dean to bring Jack back home.

He tightened his grip on the bottle and with a sudden rush of strength and energy he sat up and threw it as hard as he could at the wall, watching with slight satisfaction as the glass broke and sprayed all over, the remainder of the liquid spilling onto the wall and ground.

He didn't know what to do. Falling back onto the bed he gritted his teeth and tried to force himself to think about what was the right course of action.

He had no idea how to bring Sam back to life, at this point they've burned a few bridges and they've done more than a few things. Maybe he could call Billie and offer a favor of some sort but at the same time, he knew that he had nothing really to offer and he was sure that she wasn't that eager to make any kind of reality changing deal for him.

He liked the kid, he really had. But in the end the kid had gone soulless and not said a word, neither did Castiel, and now because of that and because they weren't aware, Sam was dead because of it.

The kid had gone soulless and instead of telling them had hidden it and tried to pretend that everything was okay and...and...

He had gone soulless because of them. Because he had used his entire soul, burned it all away, to save them from Michael.

Dean closed his eyes tightly and shook his head, trying to clear it.

And god only knew where the kid was now. God only knew who else had had destroyed or killed or anything else. The kid was soulless and all time powerful, there was no telling what his next step was or what he was going to do.

And no one really could stop him regardless of what he was going to do.

Making up his mind he took one more deep breath and got up from his bed. Without looking back, he walked to the front of the bunker.

He had work to do.

**I do not own Supernatural. **

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	7. Chapter 7

Dean couldn't help but let his thoughts drift to Mary as he worked at the laptop.

He didn't regret saying what he said, he had meant every last word of it. The woman had done nothing but abandon and leave them from the moment she had been brought back to life.

Sam was the more forgiving brother, he always had been. He had always been the one to look past what people had done and focus on the now, focus on what they had to do at the moment.

Dean was never like that, he never could bring himself to be like that. He burned and he clawed and slashed, he couldn't let go of the things people have done in the past and especially when it hurt him, or worse, if it hurt Sammy.

He had thought that once he had gotten through to Mary, back when she had been brainwashed by the British Men of Letters, once he had finally gotten the closure he hadn't known that he needed, he thought that that was it. That she would stay and be their mom.

He didn't need her to stay at the bunker 24/7, baking pies and cooking their dinner. She was a hunter just like them. She needed to get out and hunt and help people, needed to swing her machete and shoot her gun and that wasn't a problem, it was far from a problem, he liked being able to talk to her like a hunter and at the same time like a mom.

But he wanted her there at least. He wanted her to be on their side, work with them not against them. Choose their side, not strangers that she had nothing to give to them.

But no. She was never satisfied with that, never choosing them, her sons, her flesh and blood, living proof of her marriage and life when she had been with her husband.

Not for the first time Dean wished that Amara hadn't brought her back and had instead brought back his dad to life instead.

A lot of things could be said about John, a lot of things could be said about much of a hunter he had been and how even to this day there were older hunters that spoke of him in hushed tones.

But no one, not a single person, could ever have said that John Winchester didn't love his kids. No one could say that John Winchester didn't do all that he could do in his situation.

Their dad would never had joined the British Men of Letters in any way, especially not after seeing the shape that Sam had been after being in their 'care' for two weeks. The very least he would've done was immediately shoot them, if not drag them back and do ten times what they had done to Sam.

Another location that Jack was in piped up on the laptop and Dean marked it down on the map, watching the dot that was Jack bounce around again.

John Winchester had a lot of issues, he had a lot of problems and a lot of the times they interfere with being a dad, sometimes he had to be a hunter more than a dad but that never made them think that the man didn't love them.

Even Sam, a bit ago, confessed that he never really hated dad. He was upset at him, disappointed, and hurt but never really hated him. And he never stopped loving the man, neither did Dean.

A lot had been left unsaid between the Winchester men. A lot of things he wished he could've gotten the chance to say to his dad. A lot of things that are never going to be said between them.

He had always thought the same about their mom, that he'd never get the chance to meet her, to know her, to just be able to sit down and talk to her over dinner.

And now he had that. He had had those dinners and he had had those talks. He had had the chance to meet her and had had the chance to know her.

And he wanted to give it back. He wanted to go back to having only dreams and wishes, he didn't want to know the truth, he just wanted to go back to not knowing and wishing he could.

It would be better than knowing that your own mother didn't want to be on your side, not even once.

There. Another marking on the map where Jack was flying around. He marked it and watched the laptop slowly start to make a pattern.

Dad wouldn't have done any of that. He knew how dad reacted, he knew how dad wouldn't react. He knew exactly how dad would do everything, he had idolized the man enough, had looked up to him and had tried to copy him enough to know exactly how their dad would be.

And it wasn't anything near to what Mary had been doing.

A pattern was made and with it, future stops. It was a starting point and the least he could do to try and find the kid.

Getting up Dean grabbed the laptop and grabbed his gun, checking to make sure he had bullets in there from the angel blade.

And if Mary got in his way…

He'd kill her too.

**I do not own Supernatural. **

**234/365**

**I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me. **

**Also I don't want any Mary hate despite how this chapter was filled with it. She is one of the my favorite characters and while I don't agree with a majority of her actions, I understood why she was doing them. **


	8. Chapter 8

Jack didn't bother even letting his feet touch the ground before he was off again, wings straining against reality as he tried to find...what he wasn't sure anymore.

He was running. He was running as fast as he could, heart thundering in his ears and he felt himself shake before he was suddenly thrust into the ground.

He curled into a ball, gripping half at himself and half at the ground and dirt, whimpering and crying out before he forced his wings out and he was adrift once more.

Finally his wings gave out and he fell into a hole, landing hard on the dirt and ground and letting out small coughs as the air was pushed out of his lungs. He opened his eyes to stare up at the sky and sobbed.

He turned onto his side, curling into as small a ball as he could, wings wrapping around him tightly. He sobbed into his arms and the dirt, fingers pressing hard into anything that he could reach. He couldn't breathe and despite how much he didn't want to, his body forced him to breathe.

Drained, exhausted, not sure of anything around him or anything else he slumped over and just...laid there. Eyes open but unseeing, not being able to see anything. Someone could come to him and stab him right here and now and he'd never realize it.

He didn't want to realize it, he didn't want to realize anything. He wanted to stop existing. He wanted everything to stop. He didn't want to deal with this, he couldn't face it, he couldn't do anything, he destroyed everything he touched.

All this power, all this abilities that he had, everything at his disposal, and all he could do was hurt and destroy and kill one of the most important people in his life.

Sam had been the first person he had seen. He was the first person on his side, the first person who knew that he was and tried to talk to him, tried to reach him, tried to connect with him.

He had been the one to try to help Jack always. He had been the one try to help him with his powers, tried to make him not afraid of both his powers and everything else around him.

All he could picture was being back in the church with Sam and Lucifer, the latter forcing them to decide who lived and who died. He remembered Sam with no hesitation handing him the blade and telling Jack to kill him, so that he could live.

He remembered the desperation in Sam's voice when Jack had turned the blade on himself instead.

And how had he paid all that back? How had he given it back to him? How had he finished their relationship?

Jack had killed him.

Jack flinched hard, feeling something deep inside of him crack and he curled up tighter on the ground.

What he was supposed to do now? What could he do? Could he go into heaven, there was no other place for Sam to be in, and find his soul? Bring it back to earth? But then what? His body was destroyed, could he recreate his body?

Would he even be able to do any of that? Was there a limit to his power? What else could he do?

It was all his fault. He hadn't told them that he hadn't had a soul, he was the one to keep secrets and in the end Sam paid for it.

Closing his eyes he just held onto himself and the ground, not wanting to do anything, not sure of what to do. He just...wanted everything to stop.

"Jack?"

**I do not own Supernatural. **

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	9. Chapter 9

Jacks eyes snapped open and he whirled around at the sound of the voice. Heart in his throat he couldn't breathe for a moment.

Sam was kneeling down next to him, concern on his face and one hand extended towards him. "Jack?" he asked again, his voice soft.

"Sam." Jack gasped out, reaching out for him. The moment his fingers touched Sam however the man disappeared into golden dust.

Jack froze in place, hand extended and eyes wide, feeling as if he was going to either throw up or just collapse into sobs. "Sam?" he asked, his voice raising a growing desperate. His hand came down to the ground and he desperately pawed at it. "Sam!"

When nothing happened Jack couldn't help himself anymore, crumbling onto the ground and starting to sob once more. He couldn't even name the reason he was crying, couldn't put a real feeling to the emotion, everything was welling up inside of him and he just couldn't stop or control himself anymore.

He didn't want to feel like this. He didn't want to face this. He hated this, he hated all of this. He didn't want to feel like this, he didn't want to feel anything, wasn't that the point of no longer having a soul? So that he couldn't feel anything?

"Jack?"

This time Jack refused to look up, refused to acknowledge the voice, refused to have anything to do with it. He didn't want to face this, whatever it may be.

His chest was hurting and logically he knew that it wasn't but it felt like his heart was being ripped into pieces. Logically his heart wasn't feeling anything, it was the rest of his body making him feel like this but it didn't stop him from wanting to reach deep inside of him and drag his heart out piece by piece.

"Please don't, you need it." came Sam's voice. "Jack."

"Stop." he managed to croak out. "Stop, I don't want this, I don't want to face this, I don't want to see this."

"But you have to, you need to." Sam's voice told him. It was his imagination but it almost felt like Sam's hand was on his head. "C'mon Jack, look up."

"No."

"Please Jack, you-"

"I said no!" Jack all but screamed, hand coming up and a flash of grace destroyed the image.

"Wow, you just wanna destroy every single last bit of him." came another unfortunate familiar voice. Jack closed his eyes tightly and wrapped his arms around his head.

"Oh come on now sonny, don't be like that." Lucifer's voice came, laughing slightly. His laugh grated on Jacks ears and he covered them. "Not like that it's gonna help."

"You're stuck with us for good now."

**I do not own Supernatural. **

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